. . . and, the mental version of the cafe
hangs on the wall, void of the sounds
which brought it to life;
its joys and sorrows;
its peculiar circumstances,
like one-day processing, we notice
its affects and grow to expect the service;
like most, we notice what's not available
until the painting erodes and the
sun bleached wall is replaced.
April 1986
No comments:
Post a Comment